


Sheared

by ohofcourse



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Canon Compliant, Caretaking, Gon and Killua make a brief cameo, Hisoka is a good boyfriend, Hurt/Comfort, Illumi's HAIR, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury, M/M, Showers, Tenderness, Vomiting, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:55:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohofcourse/pseuds/ohofcourse
Summary: Illumi is dropped off at the doorstep of his and Hisoka's apartment after what should have been a routine visit to the Zoldyck Estate.
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck
Comments: 23
Kudos: 861





	Sheared

Hisoka could feel Gon and Killua’s nen the moment they entered the apartment building. He found it a little strange they weren’t bothering to hide their presence, but he also found that he didn’t care much about what they did, at least not now. Illumi would be returning from the Zoldyck estate tomorrow morning; it was all he could think about. 

The inevitable knock came a few moments later. 

“Coming,” Hisoka said with a sigh, as if the children were causing him a huge inconvenience. 

He felt Illumi as soon as his hand touched the door. He _loved_ surprises. Though he would have preferred Illumi come alone, and perhaps wearing nothing but a trench coat, being accompanied by his little brother and his little brother’s fascinating mountain friend was alright too. 

“Hisoka.” Gon sounded breathless. Big brown eyes stared up at him, glittering wetly. 

“Hello,” he half sang. Killua was holding someone up, mouth twisted like he was about to say something vulgar. Hisoka realized almost instantly that the “someone” was Illumi. It was hard to tell, seeing as he was wearing thin black pants and a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up. Illumi did not wear sweatshirts, or thin black pants, and he especially didn’t wear these things together. 

“Illumi,” Hisoka began softly, eyes widening. “You’ve changed your look.” Killua stepped a little protectively in front of his older brother. Illumi, slowly, like he was in pain, pulled his hood back away from his face. 

Hisoka felt many things at once. First, he felt the horrible urge to laugh, which often struck him around tragedy. Illumi often scolded him about it, but Hisoka felt that laughter was only a tad worse than the empty, soulless gaze that Illumi wore around similar things. Second, he felt a sort of inconsolable anger, like nothing he had ever felt. He could almost imagine himself like Illumi, surrounded by an aura of pure, black evil, as sinister as hell. 

As if in response to that, Gon shifted uncomfortably. 

“We were on our way to Whale Tale island, but Killua wanted to get some of his stuff from his room.” Killua managed to return to the estate for brief stints because he would assure his family each time that he would be back. They were desperate at this point and allowed it.

“Yes,” Hisoka said carefully. He hoped this anecdote had a point, because Illumi was standing there in that odd little way that he does, like an unactivated video game character, and his lip was cut and his cheek was bruised in yellow and green. His breath rattled in his ribs like there were rocks in there. His usually frightening eyes, which Hisoka found endearing, like the eyes of a garden lizard, sinister but almost impish, were truly dead now, just light-seeking blackness. And worst of all. 

They had shaved his hair. What had once been long silky locks was now a dark, velvety cap over his head. Judging by the gash at his ear and around his temples, he had put up a fight, which made Hisoka suddenly feel nauseous. 

“And we found him like this. Kalluto had just sent his parents a letter, that he wasn’t coming back, that he was staying with the phantom troupe, and I guess--” 

His darling had no hair. Gon’s voice trailed off awkwardly. Children could be so selfish. 

“Give him to me, then,” Hisoka said, smiling faintly. Killua looked dubious, but he handed Illumi over to him. Illumi, who usually smelled so clean and soft, reeked of blood. He was terribly heavy on Hisoka’s shoulder, like he wasn’t carrying a pound of his own weight. 

“Alright,” Hisoka said, “beetle off!” Gon took Killua’s hand. 

“You’ll call me when he’s alright, yeah?” Killua asked, stopping in the hallway, eyes wide. His chest rose and fell like a rabbit’s. 

“You Zoldyck children never know when to just _stay home_ ,” Hisoka half-sneered, slamming the door shut. Silence overtook the apartment.

Immediately, he gathered Illumi in his arms. 

“What would you like from me? Shall we run a bath?” Illumi seemed to consider his options before finally just shrugging. It was Killua-like. Hisoka swallowed. 

“Let’s take a bath. I can’t _wait_ to see you naked, it’s been so long.” Hisoka had never seen Illumi limp before. It was disgusting. 

...

As soon as they reached the master bathroom, Illumi began to gingerly shed his clothes. Hisoka decided not to interfere. He watched with growing rage as brutalized shoulders came into view, and then a bruised torso, and then thighs littered with burns and gashes, and an ankle so purpled Hisoka worried it might be broken. Illumi braced both hands against the bathroom counter and stared at himself in the mirror. His stomach expanded and contracted almost violently. He was staring at his own reflection like he wanted to kill it. 

“You really pull off the buzzcut, Illumi, I’m impressed. It’s those delicate features of yours, they make everything look good.” Illumi ran a trembling hand through his short, fuzzy hair and sighed. 

“Illumi…” Hisoka began hesitantly, “can you speak?” He wouldn’t have put it past the Zoldycks, especially the mother, to do something so horrifically permanent. 

“I was made to swallow hot sand. I will be having trouble speaking for a little longer,” Illumi rasped in the most wrecked voice Hisoka had ever heard. In any other scenario, any other, it would be desperately hot. 

“I can speak for the both of us,” Hisoka said with a thin smile. Illumi snorted, as if to say, _I know._

...

Hisoka ran a bath. He didn’t add any of his usual oils and soaps, afraid they would irritate Illumi’s many open wounds. 

“In you get,” Hisoka said, ushering Illumi into the bath. A gash went from the back of his neck up into his scalp, half hidden by hair. Hisoka bit the inside of his mouth. 

Illumi slowly descended into the bath and stiffened when the warm water touched his wounds. 

“You okay?” Illumi nodded tightly. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, until Illumi seemed to finally relax. 

“What will you let me do, love, hm?” Hisoka was hoping illumi would say, _please kill my parents, slowly and brutally._ But all he got was a vague hand gesture: _do your worst._ It was something he did during sex, too. Hisoka took some unfragranced soap and lathered it between his hands. He started with Illumi’s face. Gently, he rubbed the soap into his cheeks, thumbs stroking gentle arcs under his eyes. He pressed gently at Illumi’s temples, travelling down to his jaw, his chin, moving up to his nose. 

“You’ve got such a lovely face. You’re like a dream.” Illumi’s mouth twitched. Hisoka continued to wash Illumi with as much gentleness as he could muster. He avoided open wounds, opting to pour lukewarm water over them. Illumi was the perfect patient. When Hisoka asked him to lift his arms, he did so. When Hisoka asked him to shift one leg, or turn his head, or hold his breath, he did. 

“Your hair,” Hisoka said carefully, “will grow back. We can even find someone with hair-growing nen, if that exists.” 

“I’m not that vain,” Illumi rasped. Hisoka knew. Much of Illumi’s appeal was his lack of obsession with himself. It was something Hisoka could not relate to, but he appreciated very much. Illumi woke in the morning and put on clothes and did not once think of what he might appear like to other people. 

But of course, this was not about vanity. Hisoka, last year, had gone to a salon and asked for his split ends to be trimmed off. He left with an undercut. Illumi had absently stroked his cheek as he bemoaned his new hairstyle. _I look like a newspaper boy!_ Illumi had told him in that pleasing, lilting tone of his that _hair grows back, Hisoka, there’s no need to lose sleep over it._ Then they had had sex. 

This was wildly different. It wasn’t a bad haircut, Hisoka knew. Illumi had been held down and sheared. 

“Of course you’re not vain,” Hisoka assured him, “but I know you love your hair. Besides, you might look even more heartbreakingly handsome with short hair!” Illumi’s mouth quirked. 

“Okay, that’s enough bathing.” Hisoka helped Illumi stagger out of the bath and wrapped him up in their largest white towel. He sat Illumi on the edge of the bed and produced their meagre first aid kit from the linen closet in the hallway. 

“I’ll call a doctor tomorrow to look over the uglier stuff,” Hisoka promised, dabbing ointment on Illumi’s shoulder. Illumi nodded. 

...

Hisoka did not sleep. He was glad he didn’t because when Illumi stumbled out of bed at around three in the morning, he was able to watch him as he keeled over in front of the toilet and vomited. 

Hisoka had never seen Illumi vomit. He didn’t even realize it was something Illumi could _do_ . Illumi had seen Hisoka vomit, many times: he ate sixty three oysters in one night, he drank isopropyl alcohol by accident, he drank it again on purpose, he contracted the stomach flu from Gon, he contracted it from Killua only two months later. Illumi had demanded, mouth twisted, hair falling in a pretty waterfall over his shoulder, _why_ Hisoka was contracting a contagious flu from children, multiple times, specifically from these children. Hisoka had just gripped the toilet bowl and laughed miserably, vomit dripping from his lips. 

“Illu,” Hisoka rasped. Illumi convulsed and threw up again. It looked bloody. Hisoka filled a mug on his bedside with water and tilted Illumi’s chin up. His eyes were glassy, his mouth was wet with bleeding vomit. 

“You have bad stuff in your stomach--” _Including sand. “_ You need to dilute it with water, so it comes out easier.” Illumi gurgled something out and shook his head. 

“You have to, Illu, come on.” Hisoka could feel himself growing frantic. “I’ll make you drink it, if you don’t. You’re going to rip up your throat at this rate.” Illumi groaned and threw up again. Hisoka had had enough. He wrapped an arm around Illumi’s throat, tipping his head back with his hand. He dug two fingers into Illumi’s half-parted mouth, which was slick and hot on the inside, and poured half a mug of water into his mouth. Illumi spluttered. Hisoka snapped his mouth shut and held him there. Teary, exhausted eyes glared at him.

“Yeah, fine, you can kill me in the morning,” Hisoka muttered, using his other hand to plug Illumi’s nose. There was a joking sound as Illumi searched for air. 

“Illu, _please,_ just swallow.” It was almost painful, watching him struggle. Until, finally, Illumi’s need for air won over. He swallowed reluctantly and then Hisoka was releasing him and he was collapsing over the toilet bowl again. 

“You need to drink more,” Hisoka insisted. Illumi made a sound of refusal. “Illumi,” Hisoka said, “I will bungee gum your mouth open and force you to drink more. Just please, drink some water.” He held the mug closer to him. Illumi glanced at him from the corner of a slitted eye. His brow glistened with sweat. There was a moment in which Hisoka prepared himself to actually do it, bungee gum his boyfriend’s mouth open. They had done it before, albeit in much different, much sexier circumstances. 

Illumi, however, took the mug. As he drank, Hisoka flipped the waist of his pants down once to check if he had underwear on. He did. 

“Take your pants off,” Hisoka said, already doing it for him. Illumi didn’t seem to care. He bent his knee to allow Hisoka to pull one pant leg off him, and then did the other. His thighs were trembling slightly. Hisoka did the same with his shirt, leaving Illumi in nothing but black boxer briefs. 

At this point, Illumi was just dry-heaving, nothing left in his stomach to give. His bruised rib cage rose and fell erratically. 

“I’m going to turn on the shower, just stay there. I’ll help you in.” Illumi was slumped against the toilet, cheek pressed to the seat. Hisoka wondered absently the last time they had cleaned the bathroom, much less the toilet. 

“It’s warm,” he announced, pulling his hand out from under the spray. Illumi was dead weight when he lifted him, but Hisoka didn’t mind. He wrapped an arm around his waist, peeling his boxers off, and sat him on his lap under the spray. Illumi just laid there, his back draped over Hisoka’s front. He opened his mouth half-heartedly, to collect the falling water, but otherwise, he did nothing. 

“I’ll call the doctor as soon as we get out.” Illumi nodded against his shoulder. Hisoka sighed, running an absent hand through his love’s new, bristly hair. 

“Your phone is ringing,” Illumi suddenly croaked. Hisoka had no idea how he could hear that, while inside a different room, under a shower spray. 

“It’s okay,” Hisoka said, trying to sound pleasant. 

“I think I would like to go back to bed, now,” Illumi said. 

...

He had asked Hisoka to let him walk himself. Hisoka supervised from a few feet behind. Illumi made it to Hisoka’s side and collapsed down. Hisoka took Illumi’s side with a faint smile. He reached over Illumi to grab his phone. Killua had called, many times. He had also left messages. 

Young children were inherently selfish. Part of growing up was deciding if they were going to keep that or not. Hisoka couldn’t say much for Gon; he didn’t know what his mountain child was like anymore. It had been a while since they had spoken or fought. But Killua seemed to be growing up well. 

_Please call me when you can, Hisoka._

_Please._

_You don’t even have to call, just text me._

_Illumi’s fine._

_Well, he just vomited his organs out. But he seems fine now._

_I'll update you later~_

_Thank you._

_Hisoka! This is Gon!_

_Hello_

_Killua and I are going to Jappon and we’re going to hunt down a Shaer!_

_Wonderful._

_Gon is an idiot. He doesn’t explain things._

_Shaer’s blood makes your hair grow really fast._

_Gon and I are going to use it to grow mustaches._

_And we’ll send you a vial._

_thanks, Killua~_

Hisoka craned his neck to look at Illumi. He was already asleep. Hisoka could not remember the last time he was awake and Ilumi was not. It was always refreshing to see him sleep. Illumi was usually so quiet and economical in his movement, that he gave off the illusion of utter stillness. But like this, he was actually at rest. It invigorated Hisoka by proxy. 

Illumi woke to a hand running over his hair. Hisoka was watching television, his other hand wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. He looked tired. Illumi supposed it was his fault. He had been a nightmare last night, from what he could remember. 

“Good morning, darling,” Hisoka said, gaze still fixed on the television. 

“Hm.” 

“How are you feeling?” Hisoka’s voice was light, casual, but Illumi did not miss the way his eyes flitted over his body, lingering on his face. Illumi didn’t know what to say. He felt weak. His mouth tasted off. His head ached. Every breath was painful. His body was overly hot where the covers touched him and chilled where he was exposed to open air. His throat was raw. And his hair. His hair was gone. 

Still, he did not feel… how he thought he would feel. Hisoka sipped his coffee, waiting patiently for a response. 

“I feel fine,” Illumi said eventually. Hisoka raised a thin eyebrow. 

“You puked like a teenager last night.” 

“Yes, well,” and Illumi paused, frowning. “I… feel fine.” Hisoka seemed satisfied by this answer the second time around. 

“I like you with short hair, by the way.” Illumi made a face. “Though,” and Hisoka tilted his head up and to the side, eyes half-closed. “I do miss having something to grab onto.” Illumi made another face, a slightly more intense version of the first. 

“Maybe that was Silva’s intention.” It was a joke. Illumi was as shocked by it as Hisoka seemed. He liked surprising Hisoka. It was exhilarating. 

“Very funny,” Hisoka said a little sourly. For the first time since he had arrived home, Illumi smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first HxH fic, so bear with me on characterization. I also wrote this in a bit of a rush because i didn't want my motivation to die, so bear with me on everything else. :) 
> 
> Comments and kudos really make my day!! Thank you for reading!


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